I hurried to the Commander’s office, but Valek had beaten me there. He closed the door behind him as he joined me in the throne room.
“I’ve taken care of dinner,” he said, guiding me back through the maze of desks. It was early evening, and only a handful of advisers were working.
“Find Margg and cancel tonight’s meeting, then go back to our suite and get some rest,” he said.
“Cancel? What for? It would look suspicious. I’ll wear gloves to cover the bandages. It’s cold enough at night; nobody will notice.” When he didn’t reply, I added, “I’m fine.”
He smiled. “You should take a look at yourself in a mirror.” He hesitated, his face creasing in indecision. “All right. We’ll proceed as planned.”
We stopped at the door to Valek’s office. “I have some work to finish. Rest and don’t worry. I’ll be close by tonight.” He inserted his key.
“Valek?”
“Yes.”
“What will happen to Nix?”
“We’ll patch him up, threaten him with years in the dungeon if he doesn’t cooperate, and when he’s done helping us, I’ll reassign him to MD–1. Good enough? Or should I kill him?”
Military District 1 was the coldest, bleakest district in Ixia. The possibility of Nix falling prey to a snow cat brought a wicked grin to my face. “No. Reassignment’s good. If I had wanted him dead, I would have done it myself.”
Valek straightened his spine, snapping me a look. A combination of surprise, amusement and wariness over my comment flashed across his face before he reined in his emotions and was once again my stone-faced Valek.
I smiled my best Janco impression and headed down the hall. Resting would have to wait since I had a number of errands to run before the evening’s meeting. First, I needed a pair of gloves and a cloak. As the cooling season dwindled toward the cold season, the nights had turned sharp and brisk, coating everything in a blanket of ice so that the blades of grass sparkled like diamonds when touched by the morning sun.
Thanking fate that Dilana was still in her sewing room, I chatted with her about the latest gossip before I made my request.
“My goodness,” she said, sounding like a worried matron. “You don’t have any clothes for the cold!” She bustled about her stacks of uniforms. Her soft, honey-colored ringlets bounced with each movement. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” she admonished.
I laughed. “I haven’t needed them till now. Dilana, do you mother everyone in the castle?”
She stopped piling clothes to look at me. “No, dear, just the ones that need it.”
“Thanks,” I said in a tone of affectionate sarcasm.
By the time she was through outfitting me for the cold season, I was inundated with a heap of clothing. With all of the flannel undergarments, wool socks and heavy boots, I probably could survive on the pack ice for weeks. I stashed the pile into a corner of the room and asked Dilana to have someone deliver them to Valek’s suite.
“Still there?” she asked with a grin.
“For now. But I think when things settle down, I’ll be back in my old room.” When, I thought sourly. It was more like if.
I selected a heavy black cloak from the stack, tucked black wool gloves into its deep pockets, and then draped it over my arm. The cloak had two hand-size red diamonds stitched on the left breast and an oversize hood whose function was more to keep the rain off my face than to keep my head warm.
“I think you’ll be there a long time,” Dilana said.
“Why?”
“I believe Valek’s sweet on you. I’ve never seen him take such an interest in a food taster before. He usually trains them and leaves them alone. If there was any potential for trouble, he would assign one of his sneaks to spy on the taster, but he wouldn’t bother with him personally, let alone live with one!” Her face had the avid glow of a gossip at full steam.
“You’re crazy. Deluded.”
“In fact, he’s never taken an interest in a woman before. I was beginning to suspect he might prefer one of his male sneaks, but now…” She paused dramatically. “Now, we have the lovely, intelligent Yelena to get Valek’s cold heart pumping.”
“You really should get out of your sewing room more. You need fresh air and a dose of reality,” I said, knowing better than to believe a word Dilana said, but unable to control the silly little grin on my face.
Her sweet, melodious laughter followed me into the hallway. “You know I’m right,” she called.
The only reason Valek was interested in me, I thought as I walked through the dim corridors, was because I was a puzzle for him to solve. Once he thought he had all the answers about the southern magician and Brazell, I’d be sent back to my room in the servants’ wing. I couldn’t let myself believe anything else. It was one thing for me to have a harmless infatuation that wouldn’t have any influence on my plans. It wouldn’t. Absolutely not. To think he felt the same toward me would be disastrous.
So I tried to convince myself that Dilana, although a sweetheart, was a victim of her own overactive imagination and was mistaken. I tried very hard. I tried all the way to the kitchen. I tried when I saw Rand lurching around his ovens, reminding myself that Valek was ruthless, murdering dozens of people. The King’s blood still adorned Valek’s knife. Valek was deadly, moody and exasperating. But for some reason, I couldn’t get that silly grin to go away no matter how hard I tried.